It's Only Anger
by MegaNerdAlert
Summary: During the first war, it had been Minerva, Albus, and another girl who had been the Golden Trio of their time. Unlike Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, not all of them had survived the last battle. The death of Minerva's lover Elise is finally catching up to her, in the form of an utter loathing of a brown eyed girl who reminds Minerva of her first love.


**Oneshot based off the song "Everybody's Fool", by Evanescence. List to the song before reading if you don't already know the song. Trust me, the mood it sets is well worth the three minutes. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

_Perfect by nature_

_Icons of self indulgence_

_Just what we all need_

_More lies about a world that_

Minerva McGonagall stood stiffly on one of the still unrepaired walls at Hogwarts, in her Animagus form. It was two months into the new term, and she was watching them. Minerva was watching them like she had never watched before; instead of love and support, her eyes offered them hate and jealousy. Once upon a time, during the first war, it had been she, Albus, and another girl who had been the Golden Trio of their time. Unlike Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, not all of them had survived the last battle.

Hermione reminded Minerva so very much of Elise. So much that, now that duty to protect the three of them was yet another part of the past, she found herself hating Hermione; hating her for living, when Elise, who had been her everything, had not. Minerva's whiskers twitched in sadistic amusement as she realized that she now understood why Severus had been so cruel to Harry.

It was maddening, really, to watch Hermione live, when she was an uncanny likeness and reminder of someone Minerva could never, ever forget.

* * *

_Never was and never will be_

_Have you no shame? _

_Don't you see me?_

_You know you've got everybody fooled_

The Headmistress may not have realized, but Hermione Granger could tell that something had shifted, these last few months, in the woman whom she'd called 'mentor' for the last seven years. No one seemed to notice the angry storm behind the older witch's green eyes. The utter loathing of those walking around the castle now was commonly mistaken as the same stern gaze which Minerva had always worn.

"Minerva," Hermione whispered to herself. She knew she shouldn't refer to her Professor by her given name, but with as often as Harry referred to Dumbledore as _Albus_, and Ron referred to Madam Hooch as _Rolanda_, Hermione found she couldn't help but join suit in the step the boys were taking towards adulthood.

"What about her?" Harry asked.

"She's watching us again," Hermione sighed, sorry the boys has even heard her mention the Headmistress' name. Much like Harry's "Malfoy-is-a-Death-Eater" theory had been scoffed at by she and Ron, the boys both thought she was off the mark when she said she thought McGonagall was angry at them.

"You know what 'Mione?" Ron said, growling. "Why don't you just go talk to her, already?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You two always got on well before. I'm sure she'd tell you what's wrong…"

"If there's anything bloody wrong at all," Ron added in an annoyed tone.

"Fine," Hermione spat, frustrated with their lack of concern. "I think I will."

* * *

_Look here she comes now_

_Bow down and stare in wonder_

_Oh how we love you_

_No flaws when you're pretending_

"Professor, would you be so kind as to transform?" Hermione Granger addressed a Tabby cat on a wall."I'd like a word regarding how you seem to be regularly watching Harry, Ron and I."

"I should have known, Miss Granger," Minerva said cooly upon doing as requested, "that the resident know-it-all would be bound to notice she was being watched."

"So you're just watching me?" Hermione asked. "Not Ron and Harry?"

"Just you," came the stiff reply. Where did this girl get off, coming to a teacher and asking such personal questions? For that matter, why the bloody hell was she answering? Honestly, Minerva admitted to herself, maybe a good slap of reality would do Hermione a bit of good. "You remind me of someone I once loved. She died before you were even born."

Hermione frowned. "So you're angry at me because I remind you of her, and I lived?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Minerva crisply bit out. With that, she turned to go, walking towards a more secluded area of the still broken castle.

Unfortunately, House points didn't seem to settled the matter for Hermione. The younger witch followed, and when Minerva turned, intent on telling her to bugger off and mind her own business, she was surprised to see anger now filling up the younger woman's brown eyes.

"You think it's easy, living on after all this?" Hermione hissed at her. "You think I wanted to live more than Fred, or Remus, or Tonks did? Surviving a war is about luck, Minerva! I'm sorry about your lover but you haven't the right to take your bitterness out on me of all people!"

"You are out of line, Miss Granger!" Minerva snapped. "You're the one who was being bloody nosey!"

"Because you were stalking me!" the younger witch said indignantly.

"Well at least I haven't grabbed you, thrown you again a wall, and shagged you into oblivion!" Minerva heard herself say, voicing the true reason why Hermione's presence bothered her so. "Because that's what I've wanted! One more moment with Elise, the chance to say goodbye that I never had!"

Hermione backed away, shocked at her mentor's words. "I don't know you," she whispered. "I thought I did, but it seems that I was wrong."

With that, Hermione turned and fled, back toward the safety of being surrounded by her friends.

"Nobody does," Minerva whispered to the wall, tears streaming down her face. After crying herself dry, she idly wondered how on earth she could apologize to Hermione for her behavior, now that the young woman had seen a glimpse of what a bitter, angry old woman she really was.

* * *

_But now I know she_

_Never was and never will be_

_You don't know how you've betrayed me_

_And somehow you've got everybody fooled_

Hermione cried. She cried for the woman she thought she knew, and for the lover she'd once had, called Elise, who had probably died when she'd been about the age Hermione, Ron, and Harry were now. She cried for the facts of war that no one could change, and because she felt helpless to bring back the Minerva McGonagall she'd known for seven years.

But was she really helpless? Truly? Could there be a way to help Minerva say goodbye to Elise?

_She already told you what she wants,_ a voice inside Hermione's head whispered. _What she needs…_

"No way," Hermione told herself firmly. "You are not going to seduce your teacher."

_Why not?_ the voice pressed. _Admit it, you're not totally straight - you've thought of girls that way before…_

"It's wrong!" Hermione insisted to herself. "She's my teacher!"

_But she is also a beautiful woman who wants you_, countered the voice again.

"Bugger," Hermione hissed.

* * *

_Without the mask_

_Where will you hide?_

_Can't find yourself_

_Lost in your lie_

Weeks passed, and Minerva found total annoyance at how the tables turned. She was now trying to avoid Hermione Granger, but the younger witch seemed to be intent on stalking her. Something had shifted in the brains of the Golden Trio. The mask of perfection which has Minerva seething in anger had fallen, leaving her to see Hermione has she really was.

Sad.

Alone.

Unsure.

But much like Minerva, Hermione kept going, keeping up appearances for the world to see; a war heroine with the strength and skill to change the world. Minerva knew better, though. She knew that Hermione was struggling day by day to understand what happens to life after war, when there is nothing left except anger, boiling below the surface of a pretty, smiling mask, just waiting to break apart.

It had taken Minerva two more wars to snap. She wondered if Hermione would do better that she had. The very notion of being outdone by that little swot just made her more angry.

* * *

_I know the truth now_

_I know who you are_

_And I don't love _

_you anymore_

"Everything is different now," Hermione said quietly, finding Minerva late one night in mid February, in an empty classroom.

Minerva looked up. "I used to love you, you know," she said. "You are an incredible witch, and in another life, I wonder if we might have been friends. I'm fairly certain our conversation a few months ago buggered that possibility."

Hermione sighed. "Perhaps we could never be friends," she said. "But we could still be lovers."

"I didn't mean it like that," Minerva said quickly. "Loving you, like that. What I felt for you was never romantic, Hermione."

"Well I should hope not," the younger woman smiled. "As previous to Albus' death, any thoughts like that toward me would have been highly inappropriate."

"And they aren't now?" Minerva huffed.

"I'm not asking for your love, Minerva," Hermione said. "I'm just offering to have sex with you."

Minerva's jaw fell. "Excuse me?"

Hermione knew the hook had offically been bitten, and now she only need reel Minerva in. She moved forward quickly, grabbed the old woman by the shoulders and pushed her against the nearest wall. "Rough, dirty, angry….sex," she whispered.

The older woman issued a, in Hermione opinion, very pathetic excuse of a struggle. "Let me go," Minerva hissed, angry.

"If you really wanted me to do that, you'd be fighting harder," Hermione remarked. "Think of her if you like, but take me...right here, right now...fuck me on that desk like I know you've been wanting to."

The words, whispered into the older witch's ear as Hermione had begun nibbling on her neck, caused Minerva to moan, but still she fought. Hermine was not Elise. She didn't love Hermione. Wanted her, perhaps, but whatever shred of self respect she still had was screaming to stop.

"No!" she finally shouted, pushing Hermione away, hard.

Hermione stared at her for a moment, trying to decide if she should keep pushing, or retreat to fight another day. "As you say," she finally answered. "I shall see you in class, Professor."

This wasn't over, Hermione knew without doubt. The game had just begun. Minerva was not going to get away with falling apart. Hermione needed her to be okay. She needed to know that she would not be in the same position forty odd years from now. She and the boys had conquered evil, so why not anger as well. It was only anger…

* * *

_It never was and never will be_

_You don't know _

_how you've betrayed me_

_And somehow you've got everybody fooled_

Minerva still couldn't shake the feeling of being betrayed by Hermione, even a month after the encounter in the classroom. She had to admire the younger woman's nerve, and she did, technically, _ask for it_.

So why hadn't she screwed Hermione Granger into the desk that night? Hermione _was_ her student, but she was also of age. Having sex with a student might be frowned upon by the board, should anyone have discovered them, but there was no rule against it...technically.

Why did everything regarding Hermione keep boiling down to technicalities? She technically was not Elise, though they looked ever so much alike, and acted much the same. Elise would have done...or rather had done, much the same as Hermione in getting her to face up to her less that good behavior.

Hermione was still plugging along; still being social, and attending all her classes, even Minerva's. It was rather erie to see Hermione acting so...normal...in the face of what had nearly happened between them. That damnable girl had everybody fooled into thinking she was still the same innocent bookworm she'd always been, but Minerva knew better. After all, that had once been she, Albus, and Elise.

* * *

_It never was and never will be_

_You're not real and _

_you can't save me_

_And somehow now you're everybody's fool_

End of term, and end of Hermione education at Hogwarts was finally here. She'd walked onto the dias and accepted her diploma from the Headmistress. Later, she'd unrolled the thick parchment, and had been surprised to see a small bit of scrap parchment laying neatly inside.

_You can't save me._

That was all it said. Hermione knew from the handwriting that it was from Minerva, and she knew, well, she just knew, that the statement was a challenge from the older witch. Perhaps Minerva didn't think Hermione could save her, but the younger witch thought that her now-former Professor wanted her to try, anyway.

Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling more excited as she first waited for the train to leave with every other student, hidden by Harry's invisibility cloak (which he'd loaned her without even questioning what she wanted it for), and then as darkness fell, made her way back up to the castle. Her pulse was beating wildly as she made for the Headmistress' quarters, where Minerva was bound to be by this hour.

There were no students left. Almost all the teachers were gone. They would be in the privacy of Minerva's rooms. The only excuse the older witch would have left would be her pride, which Hermione knew she could break through. It would probably get ugly at first, but chances were, the angry, passionate sex that followed would be all the better for it.

She didn't knock. She'd gotten Filius to give her the password that morning; how, she'd never tell. Hermione strode into the office, and upon not seeing Minerva there, walked right through to the protest of several portraits, right into Minerva's personal quarters. "Good evening," she stated in announcement of her presence.

Minerva looked up from the sofa she was sitting on, eyes leaving the pages of her book and meeting Hermione's gaze. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Well," Hermione said, shrugging off her jacket to reveal a tight pair of blue jeans and a simple white tank top. "The plan is to take you to bed."

"We are not having this conversation again, Miss Granger," Minerva stated, standing up and walking toward the younger woman.

"Well, you'll have to force me to leave, then," Hermione shrugged.

"You insolent little bitch," Minerva snapped, shoving her now former student hard, toward the door she'd just come in.

Hermione shoved back, throwing in a slap across Minerva's face for good measure. As she predicted it would, this made Minerva very, very angry. The older witch, just as Hermione figured she would, reached for her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, disarming Minerva. She then took both their wands and banished them to the Head's office. "For one bloody minute, be human, Minerva! Be a woman! Forget being a witch! Forget being Headmistress! Forget everything!"

"I can't forget, Hermione!" Minerva shouted back. "When you constantly remind me!"

Hermione moved forward again, each step deliberate as she watched Minerva's eyes flicker between confused, scared, and angry. By the time Hermione was standing with her smaller body pressed flush against Minerva's, the older woman once again pinned to a wall, Minerva's expression was almost feral.

"You have no idea what you are asking," she growled.

Hermione moved on hand against Minerva's neck, pressing just enough to slightly constrict Minerva's breath, and with the other hand she roughly cupped a silk nightgown covered breast. "Yes. I do," she insisted, forcing eye contact. "I am asking you to have your way with me. Your way. This is what _you_ wanted. Remember?"

"Damn you," Minerva choked out.

"The war already did that," Hermione whispered, letting go of the older witch's neck, letting her fingers trail down between two pert breasts, and put her hand on the tie holding Minerva's gown together. All she had to do was pull, but she needed Minerva to give the signal.

The older witch's hands grabbed Hermione's face and pulled her unto a rough kiss. As soon as Hermione began to kiss her back, Minerva's hands fell to the younger witch's waistline, pushing away the white tank top, and digging her nails into the smooth skin underneath.

"Hermione…" Minerva breathed as the younger woman stopped kissing her and bit down, hard, on her former teacher's shoulder. "Gods…"

Hermione pulled the tie she was still holding, and then roughly reached up to shove the fabric off Minerva's shoulders. The dressing gown fell to the floor, and as soon as Minerva's arms were free, she grabbed the fabric of Hermione's shirt and pulled it quickly over the younger woman's head. Hermione unsnapped her own bra while Minerva undid the button on her jeans.

In the first show of real power, Minerva shoved Hermione off of her. The younger woman hit the ground with a painful thud, though the assault was quickly forgotten as Minerva quickly pulled the last remaining article of clothing between them away. Minerva thigh met a warm wetness between Hermione's legs in one fluid motion as she lowered herself on top of the younger woman.

"Minerva!" Hermione moaned as her clit came to life under the pressure of unfamiliar flesh.

The older woman sucked roughly on Hermione's nipples, each in turn, until they were both erect and swollen. As Minerva relaxed her grip to move her elbows off the cold floor, Hermione took advantage of the show of weakness, and flipped the older woman onto her back, pressing one hand on Minerva's belly and taking two shaking fingers and plunging them into slick folds.

"Oh! Gods!" Minerva screamed. "Yes!"

Hermione thrust hard and quick, and it was only a few seconds before Minerva's once ready and gaping cunt was quaking. The younger woman rolled her thumb gently over Minerva's clit, and that was the end of that. Her fingers were now being squeezed like a vice as the older witch's face grew red, breath being held for too long in anticipation of the incredible orgasm now consuming her body.

As Minerva began to relax, Hermione grinned. She rolled the older woman to her side, and slapped her naked ass, hard enough that by morning, there would undoubtedly be a mark. "We're not done yet, witch," she stated firmly.

"You are impossible!" Minerva groaned, sitting upright for just long enough to lunge at Hermione, pushing her back onto the floor.

A moment later, Hermione felt her thighs being shoved apart, and a slick, wet tongue began licking between her legs as nails that felt like claws grabbed at her hips. "Ohh yeah…" Hermione murmured in approval. If one was going to lose their virginity, this was absolutely the way to go about it. "Don't you fucking hold back," she ordered.

Minerva growled in response, and then let go of one breast and plunged two long fingers into Hermione's core. The impact caused a sharp pain, which caused her flinch. The older witch paused.

"Hermione," she whispered. "Have you ever…"

"Don't. Stop." Hermione insisted through gritted teeth.

Minerva waited a few more seconds, until Hermione's body relaxed again, and then she resumed licking, and after another minute, steady but firm thrusts also continued. Hermione's breathing shallowed as her body began to hum. "Almost there, love," the older witch cooed.

Hermione's hips began slowly arching into the movement, hitting what she assumed was her G-spot, if the waves of pleasure that followed were anything to go on. "Please…" she whimpered. "So...close…"

And then it was upon her. "Uuuggghhh!" Hermione climaxed hard, back arching as Minerva hit her with a final, hard thrust of her hand, all the while sucking lightly on her clit. It was the most amazing thing Hermione had ever felt, and for that moment, the anger at the world vanished, and utter bliss consumed her.

The two were still for a minute, but as Hermione's breathing began to even out, Minerva stood and offered a hand to help the younger woman up. "I'm not sleeping on the floor. Come to bed, Hermione."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't really an order. A suggestion, really, but Hermione thought it was a good one and so she took the outstretched hand. "Okay," she whispered, standing.

Her legs threatened to buckle, but Minerva's arm snaked around her waist to keep her steady. As the two slowly moved toward the bedroom, Hermione thought about what tomorrow might bring. She didn't expect more to come of tonight that already had, but she also had not expected to be invited to stay the night, and yet here she was crawling into bed, ready to pass out in the comforting arms of her once mentor.

Had they just fucked, or had they just made love? Hermione wasn't sure; not sure what it was, and not sure what she wanted it to be. "It's only anger," she whispered to the dark room, thinking Minerva to already be asleep and trying to convince herself that this, all of it, had meant nothing.

"It doesn't have to be," Minerva whispered back.

* * *

**Well then. Now that you are probably all hot and bothered, please review! **


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